Feel My Love
by Madame Hatter
Summary: One-shot. Maureen must confess that she's in love with Joanne and has to break up with Mark, but she can't help but reflect on her own experiences of heartache. "It has to be Mark's heart because there's nothing of mine left to break." Back after hiatus


**Author's Note**: It's been five years? So be gentle and, yes, I welcome reviews and encourage constructive criticism. This is more of a series of vignettes, more experimental and structurally abstract than most of my work. Hope you enjoy =)

Title based on Adele's (or Bob Dylan's) "Make You Feel My Love." Things that do not belong to me belongs to Jonathan Larson.

**Feel My Love**

"Hey, Maureen."

"Hey."

A kiss on the cheek.

"This couldn't wait?"

"Me? Wait? You're kidding, right?"

"Ah, sorry. It's just…"

"Well, you don't have to be rude!"

"What? I can't help it! I had to yawn, I'm tired."

A hand reaches out to take the laminated menus.

"Do you mind if you give me a few more minutes?"

"Sure. I'll be back, sugar."

"Thank you, ma'am. Maureen?"

"I'm sorry, distracted. You're working too hard, sweetie."

"Well, I don't mind it… even though I would like to be in my soft, queen-sized bed right now."

"You mean that lumpy excuse for a mattress with 40-year-old-arthritis guarantee?"

"You know you love it."

"Haha! I really don't. I'd rather the coffee table."

"Hmm… coffee table, huh?"

"Oh, stop it."

"So, what is it you have to tell me, Maureen? What was so urgent it couldn't wait until we got home?"

A strand of hair provides as a diversion, a reason to stall. There never once was a time where the great Maureen Johnson experienced stage fright. Until now.

Think, sink, memory.

It was a mixture of science and the unexplainable. Ice-cream: the cure to every problem, the remedy for a hot day, the remedy for a rainy day, the perfect celebratory dessert. It was Maureen's best companion. And she wasn't selective when it came to flavors—in fact, she was a very curious person and would stop at nothing in acquiring the unwanted as well as the unattainable. She was particularly interested in flavors that hadn't been touched, those that were always full in abundance, like grape or mint or black licorice. Today, the flavor happened to be chocolate chip cookie dough. It was a flavor she had yet to taste, but by the time she was finished with it, she found herself licking the spoon for more.

"You ate my ice-cream?" He was just getting up. She had been up for half an hour, sitting against the headboard, savoring each scoop of that cookie dough and watching him sleep.

Maureen grinned as she pulled the spoon from between her lips and set it on the bedside table. "Sorry, I was hungry and I didn't want to wake you."

"You ate my ice-cream!" he exclaimed, laughing. His arms slid around her waist and he drew her close. His lips settled on top of her shoulder and climbed its way to her neck while his hands caressed the side of her thighs. She bit her tongue to keep from laughing, his gentle touch teasing her skin and sending chills up her back. She shifted closer, feeling his warmth over her body.

"Maureen." He whispered her name in her ear and Maureen felt as if no one else wanted her more than Steven. She felt his hand wrap around her neck and his lips brushed the side of her cheek. He turned her head to him and she thought maybe this was it. Maybe this was love, simple and easy, not as exciting as she had hoped for, but still… it felt really good, she felt secure and this felt right. He leaned close and their lips met, and Maureen couldn't help but want him. She didn't care about excitement and spontaneity. She wanted unconditional love and safety. He pulled away suddenly and looked at her carefully, his green eyes studying every part of her body.

"Steven," she said, smiling. He was making her blush. He traced his fingers down her neck and began to lay kisses on her chest. Maureen inhaled deeply, her chest rose and she leaned her head back. She cupped his face with her hands and pressed her forehead against his.

"Wait," he said softly. He unbuttoned the shirt she had on, the shirt that he had worn to work earlier that morning. She loved how his broad shoulders tensed when anticipation crept in.

"Stevie, baby, you in here?"

Maureen looked up. Short hair, dark-eyed and leggy. She had full lips, coffee-colored, creamy skin and an attitude. She was stunning. Maureen couldn't help but feel that she paled in comparison to the girl standing in the doorway, and, worse, she didn't blame Steven at all.

"Jeanine," the name escaped his lips and Maureen got up quickly, grabbing her clothes off the floor. "What are you doing here?"

Jeanine's jaw dropped as if the question wasn't a coherent one. Instead of blowing up, she crossed her arms and shot him a cold look. "I'm here for a fuck, Steve, but looks like you're more than satisfied."

"Explain yourself," Maureen ordered. Steven looked at her, searching for the right words to say. His eyes pled with mercy but bled with guilt.

"This isn't what you think," was his tremendous line. Then he paused. "Wait, what day is it?"

"You fuck!" Maureen threw his shirt at him. "This is over." She fought back the tears.

"Maureen—"

"Maureen? That protestor from the bar? You slept with the protestor that's claiming sexism in your bar?"

"Jeanine…"

"The salesclerk, the waitress, the reporter from the Voice—why don't I just line up the girls at Cat Scratch for you? You know, I don't even know why I stay."

"Please, Jeanine—"

"Is that my ice-cream?"

"Let's just—"

"I don't want to hear it!"

His arm extended to Maureen, but she swiped it away. "Don't even try it." She grabbed the rest of her clothes and walked past Jeanine without looking back. She threw on her coat and ran across the living room. She could hear Steven catching up. She darted for the door and leapt out into the vacant hallway where the wallpaper was peeling and the stains from the carpet exuded a bitter stench. Maureen stopped dead halfway; she felt as if she was suffocating.

"Maureen." Steven held her and kept her from falling. She leaned against the wall, trying to keep the room steady. She just needed to get some fresh air. "Maureen, I didn't mean for that to happen."

"You didn't mean for that to happen?" she repeated incredulously. She stopped to catch her breath, but for some reason the air was too thin and the room continued to spin. Her self-control was weakening; she burst into tears and tried to pry herself away from his arms.

"Who means for something like that to happen?" she couldn't help being a little hysterical. There she was, ready to submit to normalcy and suddenly found herself in pandemonium. "I thought… I thought… get off of me!"

"I'm so sorry," he said, loosening his grip on her.

"I thought we had something," Maureen said, laughing a bit. "I'm an idiot, I really am. I actually believed for a second that I was in love."

"Please, Maureen, just stay."

"How many?"

Another pause. "I can't answer that. I'm sorry." He stepped back. "But, I can't commit."

Maureen gave him a hard look, but realized she had heard those words before coming from her own mouth. Maureen always had a trouble with commitment. She was much too animated to be tied down like a caged animal. The world was filled to the brim with surprises, how was she to give up the hunt for that one? And yet she knew she had a soul mate and whenever she thought she had found him, she reconsidered adventure for security. Searching was tiresome and the adventure became more and more predictable every day. So, she figured, milk everything for what it was worth and when the time was right, settle.

If only she wasn't so gullible.

There were too many in disguise and she couldn't help it if she fell too quickly too soon. She couldn't stay with Steven even though Maureen wasn't as disgusted with him as she was sympathetic. She had walked his shoes, she knew exactly where he was coming from. The thrill of it all was irresistible. But, she didn't want to be one of so many.

I want to be the one, she thought desperately. I couldn't be with him, I'm not special, I want to feel special.

"This looks great."

"Refill?"

"Yes, please."

"There you go, sugar."

"Thank you very much. Maureen…? Doesn't this look great?"

"I think I lost my appetite."

"You have to eat. This is dinner, you're not going to bed hungry."

"I'm not hungry."

"If you just tell me, I bet you'll feel a lot better."

"Just… this isn't easy to say."

"Alright."

"You know… you have to just… you have to give me some time to gather some courage."

"Take all the time you need."

Awkward silence ensues.

"I love you."

"What?"

"I love you. Do you love me?"

"Wh—of course, Maureen, you know I do."

"Okay."

"That's not what you have to tell me."

"No."

"Maureen, you know you can tell me anything."

"I'm… I'm evolving."

"You're… alright. You're evolving. Okay—what?"

"I'm… changing. What I mean is—oh, Lord, fuck me."

"Okay then."

Even though Maureen had incredible stage presence, she wasn't great with words. In preparation for a performance or a protest, she would practice for days just to get things right. Everything had to flow perfectly and every time something went wrong (double booking an event, equipment breaking down) she would freak. She often questioned whether her inarticulately rambling turned her lovers off. If she couldn't put a string of words together, she'd never be able to say what she wanted to say.

Think, reflect, recollect.

She was the one that gave Maureen reason to hate women forever. She was twelve when it happened. She never thought she could feel want for another girl and yet there was one that made her think that life couldn't be any more perfect. She had curly, wheat-colored hair and blue eyes. When she smiled, Maureen's heart lifted and all she asked for was a chance to place a kiss on her soft lips.

"Holly, it's okay."

"Are you sure?"

"Mmhmm." It probably wasn't okay. It was late and there wasn't a soul in sight at the park. Maureen could hear the thunder striking, or the constellations bowling, as her father used to tell her. When the rain began to pour, the girls ran to the candy shop where they knew the manager, but the door was locked. They hid behind the alleyway and found a couple of boxes that offered them a bit of shelter.

"I thought you knew how to get home."

"I do!" said Maureen, shivering. "At least, I thought I did." Holly's lips trembled and Maureen wished she could make them stop. She wouldn't do anything to hurt her best friend, but she knew she had done something horrible.

It wasn't as if Holly was completely oblivious to Maureen's fondness of her. Maureen wasn't a very careful child—Holly's parents noticed Maureen was a little too affectionate with Holly. She'd lean just an inch closer than they expected, look at her in a way that made her mother uncomfortable, draw Holly pictures of the two of them with hearts all over the page. When Holly's mom saw one of Maureen's picture posted on the classroom wall, she forbade Holly from playing with her.

Maureen couldn't have that. She just had to see Holly again and so she snuck them away one night to play. She just wanted to play; she didn't want to do anything Holly didn't want to do.

"I want to go home," whimpered Holly. She hugged her knees and put her head down, burying her face in her lap.

Maureen frowned. They were both cold and a little scared. Maureen tugged her sleeves over her arms, but all she could think was "ick" as the fabric clung to her skin and for a moment it felt as if it was seeping beneath. The rain patted the ground harder, God's favorite vinyl record because it meant the family was forced to be under one roof and be together, her father used to tell her. Soon Holly's soft crying accompanied its melody.

Maureen scooted closer and took Holly's hand, damp and clammy, and squeezed it tight. Holly lifted her head up, her eyes gleamed with tears and she looked at Maureen cautiously.

"I'm sorry," said Maureen softly.

"It's okay," Holly said. Maureen could tell she was half-hearted with that response, but she couldn't blame her.

"Do you think… do you think we can be together?" asked Maureen.

Holly was silent. She scrunched up her brow and looked down as if she was trying to decipher the question. "I don't know."

Maureen took a breath. "If you're daddy was a girl and you had two mommies, is that…" she stopped. Holly's eyes were widening and Maureen realized what she was saying. She didn't know exactly what she was saying, but it made some sense; at least, it made sense to her.

"You're supposed to have a mommy and a daddy," said Holly quietly.

"I know," said Maureen, her tone a bit defeated. She didn't want to scare her because she knew what she was saying was different from what everyone else believed. "I really like you, Holly."

"Like Mommy likes Daddy?"

So she did understand. Maureen shrugged her shoulders a bit, but gave her an earnest look. Holly shook her head. "No, Mommy said that was wrong."

"Why?" Maureen asked suddenly. "Why is it wrong if you love them?"

"You can't be a daddy if you're not a boy, you can't fall in love with girls, you…it's not…" Holly began to stutter either from the cold or from confusion, from emotion.

"Don't you like me, Holly?" asked Maureen. "We're best friends. Right?"

Holly began to rock back and forth, her chin rested on top of her knees and her eyes fixated on the ground. "She told me… you were a freak but I told her you weren't."

Maureen's heart broke slowly. "What do you think now?"

"I…" The tip of her nose turned red and her eyes welled up again. "I just want to go home." She began to cry again and this time Maureen couldn't hold her. She crossed her arms and tried to let the rain's melody drown her out.

Half an hour passed until their parents found them. Somehow, Maureen's father figured she would be near her favorite candy shop, it was just a feeling, intuition, he had told his wife after they had searched every place Holly's parents had suggested. Holly ran to her parents' arms and they rushed her to their Ford. Maureen's father scooped her up and carried her to the cab.

"We better call the police, tell them they're alright," he whispered to his wife. "You're alright, baby." Maureen loved the way her Daddy held her. Maybe boys were better in understanding. What she knew for sure was that she didn't want her heart broken like that ever again. If she had to do the heartbreaking, fine. And if that meant no more feelings for girls, okay.

Well, those resolutions went well, for sure.

"Can I ask you question?"

"More questions, alright. What is it?"

"Am I… worthy?"

"Worthy? What do you mean, of winning an Academy Award?"

"No—"

"…worthy of putting a telemarketer to shame? Because you've got that, you've been talking endlessly and we're still on the same subject."

"No. I mean… what I'm trying to ask is… am I good enough to be loved?"

He pours another glass of water. "I don't think that question even makes sense."

"I'm asking you a simple question."

"That question is absurd."

"God, just please—I don't feel like I'm worth anyone's love."

"You're being a bit overdramatic… I mean, more than usual."

"This isn't going right."

"We've been here an hour and a half and we've gotten nowhere."

"What if I keep looking, I keep looking and no matter how many mountains I move, no matter how many sacrifices I make, each and every one of them will say, it's just not enough?"

"Um. Maureen?"

"What?"

"Why are you looking?"

"Collins…"

"God, Maureen, who is he?"

Recall, reminisce, then dismiss.

If there was one memory Maureen didn't like to think about, it was this one. His name was Evan and every Friday afternoon he would meet her on top of her apartment's rooftop. He only worked a few streets away and instead of fighting rush hour, he'd wait it out with Maureen until the traffic died down.

The sun hovered just above the horizon. Maureen liked to think it was trying to decide whether it wanted to set or not. She smiled and leaned on the edge. That was something her father would say. She begged the sun not to, though, because then he would be late. It granted her request and it just stayed and showered its rays on her face. It was picturesque moments as this one that made Maureen so vulnerable to happily ever afters.

She felt strong hands around her hips and his breathing on her neck. "Sorry, have you been waiting long?"

"Not long," she said turning her head. He kissed her softly, his arms tightened around her and she surrendered in his embrace. She rested the back of her head on his shoulder as he pressed his lips on the side of her forehead, and they watched the sun sink. "Why can't it be like this always, and not just every Friday?"

She felt his lips curve to a smile on her skin. "Let's not talk about that now."

She felt her chest heavy, tears slowly merging behind her eyes. "Would you leave her for me?"

He responded by hugging her tighter. Maureen let the tears leave her body.

"Maureen, you okay?"

"Collins…"

"Hey, it's going to be okay."

"I'm hurting Mark."

"Let's forget about Mark for one second and let's take care of you."

"I don't deserve anybody."

He was telling her about his day at the office, things that he'd normally tell his wife before going to bed. He was telling her how happy he was that he had something to look forward to at the end of the week because he was being murdered at work. He didn't notice that she had been silently crying or perhaps he did notice and chose to ignore it.

"Do you even see me?" asked Maureen softly.

"Maureen, I just can't leave her. She depends on me." Even though Maureen wanted out, Evan wouldn't let her out of his grasp. She knew he wanted her so. But, not enough.

"What's his name?"

"I don't want to…"

"Tell me, Maureen."

"Oh God… Mark…"

"It's not Mark. Who is he?"

"Jo…"

"That wasn't hard."

"…Anne."

"I see why you didn't want to tell me."

She was crying into his shirt. His hand stroke her hair gently, soft hushes in her ear was being whispered to her. She had pushed him away, pounded his chest with clenched fists, but it wasn't enough to scare him away. Whatever it was, pity, empathy, Maureen submitted to it because she didn't know if she could stand another heart break.

"I love you, Maureen."

"But you love her more?"

A camera was shoved in her face and even though she loved the spotlight, she wished he would stop. Too bad his giggling was contagious and she just couldn't stay mad at the little runt.

"No close-ups."

"I need to freeze this moment."

"Why?"

"Just so I can keep it forever. Immortalized so that if something ever happened to us…"

"What's going to happen to us?" Maureen demanded.

"Nothing! We're perfect."

"Say it," said Maureen grinning.

Mark sighed. "Picture perfect."

"Why can't it be perfect?" Maureen asked aloud. She could see Evan's eyes and how sincere he was. He understood her pain and Maureen hoped that he was feeling it too.

"I just can't leave her," he said.

"And I can't be the other woman when I want so much to be the only one. Evan…Please."

"I know. I know, Maureen."

"Evan…"

"You know I'll always care about you."

"God, Evan."

"Maureen."

"Joanne."

"Mark."

"This is going to, yeah, break him."

"Maybe I shouldn't tell him."

"No other person's loved you more than he has."

"Yeah."

"You ready to break his heart?"

"It's… it's his heart or mine."

"God, Maureen, that's not you."

"It has to be his, Collins. There's nothing left of mine to break."


End file.
